


Better than Old Times

by Cuits



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuits/pseuds/Cuits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after 7x01 the story follows how the members of the team react in the hours after Ziva's rescue and how Tony and Ziva deal with their dificult relationship in the months to come. Two timelines. Tiva ust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. McGee

Z _iva can't even walk properly. It's not actually something that serious and it seems a logical consequence of her imprisonment and God knows what tortures, still, her almost dead weight on his shoulder scares the hell out of him._

" _We need to go faster!" The Boss's steps echo loudly in the dark hallways, his movements quick and smooth with a practice that never ceases to surprise him while he tries to secure the zone for them._

_McGee is too afraid to look back but he knows they are being followed and that Gibbs wont' be able to hold them back forever._

_He feels his heartbeat pulsing against his bruised skin, the pumped blood escaping in small drops from the array of minor cuts peppering his arms, his sweaty and dirty arms. He concentrates on them, on the thumping of his heart instead of in the burning sensation coming from his lungs with every breath._

_The sound of gunshots and small explosions gets louder, closer, and he can feel Tony walking faster, clinging to Ziva's body, the hallway barely wide enough for the three of them._

" _Run, Probie, run," Tony's says quoting Forest Gump with his distressed voice and McGee wants to smack him so badly despite his swollen face_ _that he almost bits his own tongue._

_His left arm collides against the irregular wall time and time again but he can barely feel the pain above his sore muscles protesting with every unsteady step. He tries to increase his pace but his legs don't seem to cooperate, his back damp with sweat both from the effort and the desert heat. It's like he's the one holding all of them back._

_When they finally reach the outside of the main facility where they had kept them his feet sink in the unfamiliar sand and the merciless sun makes him blink and stop for a moment, his knees almost buckling under his and part of Ziva's weight._

" _Over there!" Gibbs's voice rises over the deafening noise, pointing to where part of the Marines assault team that came with him are holding position. He sees him grab what he guesses is a grenade from somewhere inside the camouflage suit and throw it through the door they have just came out from._

_The force of the blast throws the three of them to the sand and McGee swears he can feel the heat from the flames caressing his back._

_He is not sure how it happens, he is not even sure how much time it takes them but there is much shouting, bullets passing them closer than he'd like, and a couple of nearby explosions that make them stumble again. When they reach the vehicle, Gibbs carefully takes an almost unconscious Ziva from them and helps her into the back seat._

_The moment Ziva's weight_ _is off his shoulder, McGee runs like he has never run before, feeling suddenly light and quick, jumping into the front seat of the car like an Olympic athlete -or at least that is what he thinks- at the same time as Tony closes his door and Gibbs gives the "go" to the Marine in the driver seat._

_The hot metal of the jeep burns the skin of his hands when he gets hold of it trying not to fall as the car lurches, his mouth is dry as the desert as he looks back to check if they are in the clear. There's so much dust around them that it's almost impossible to distinguish the camp getting smaller, further away. In the backseat, Gibbs holds tight onto Ziva, protecting her of the potential bullets and the bumps of the inexistent road while she looks exhausted to the point of unconsciousness._

_He takes a deep breath, a combination of pure relief and an attempt to slow down his heart rate. He closes his eyes trying not to faint, his body exhausted and running out of pure adrenaline seems unable to stop trembling._

" _Try not to faint, McGee. You_ _'re far too ugly to be the damsel in distress."_

_McGee opens his eyes to give Tony a censuring look through the rearview mirror for his umpteenth inappropriate comic relief attempt of the day, but he sees him watching Ziva and forgets about it. He is all seriousness, the same determined look and straight jaw he had seen when he was being interrogated, watching Gibbs hold onto her closely and suddenly all that Tony said to Ziva in that cell comes back to him in a rush, making him feel a little bit too much of a voyeur._

_McGee can't help but wonder if all of them will be able to get completely out of that cell._


	2. Tony & Ziva. 4 days.

Four days have passed since she is been back on American soil and no amount of showers can clean the feeling of the desert sand glued to her skin. She hasn't done anything but sleep and shower for four days, she didn't want to do anything else, but Abby called and Ziva had no other option but to drag herself out of the new apartment the nice guy form Human Resources at NCIS had found for her.

She numbly crosses the city and arrives to the NCIS on autopilot and so there she is now, at one of the interrogation rooms with all her belongings in to two medium sized cardboard boxes neatly sealed with NCIS tape and labelled as _Ziva's_ with steady handwriting. Everything that wasn't blown up with her apartment, Abby had said, things that she thought she would never touch again.

She looks at the boxes, just looks at them for several minutes without really seeing anything, not prepared to look inside to the pieces of a broken life she can't have back but not knowing what else to do. She takes a deep breath and two cautious steps toward the table, taking her time in tearing the tape of the first box and opening it with steady hands.

The fluorescent lights of the room flicker for a moment and she rises her head promptly, startled, as if someone was pulling an old sack off her head once again. The reflection in the mirror that she has been carefully avoiding since she entered the room mocks her; she doesn't recognise herself in the weak, broken woman that looks back at her, pale face, choppy hair and borrowed clothes clearly too big for her.

It doesn't make sense.

Nothing makes sense to her anymore.

She had made her peace. She had had nothing but time to think about her life, her actions, her words… She had said her silent farewell to her loved ones, asked muted forgiveness from the ones she needed to be forgiven and accepted the fact that she was never going to get it. She had run out of rage, out of pride, out of strength.

She had come to accept her fate and it wasn't supposed to be two boxes on a table.

"It does not make sense," her voice is small and sad but fills the air in the room nevertheless.

"They were classified as evidence at first, that's why everything is in plastic bags. Gibbs took care of them after that."

She doesn't look back at him when she hears his voice, not surprised by his presence. Tony is always there since they came back from Africa, following carefully with his eyes all of her moves without getting too close, hidden in the silence, at her six, almost like the ghost of him she frequently saw at her cell but softer somehow, less angry than she used to imagine.

She stares at her feet trying to figure it out, to put some order in the incomprehensible scheme of things that her life has become.

"You thought I was dead but stored my things?"

"Gibbs stored your things. I'm not sure he ever thought you were dead."

His voice is calm and low and she has to turn around to see the expression that matches that kind of voice. He is leaning on the white wall, bruises still colouring his face, his hands tiredly hanging halfway into the pockets of his too expensive suit trousers and looking like one of those Hollywood actors he is always rambling about.

"But you thought I was dead."

"Yes." It isn't a question but he answers anyway.

"For three months you thought I was dead and then you crossed the desert and let yourself be captured to confirm it?"

"No." He takes a couple of steps towards her, moving slowly, deliberately, not taking his eyes from hers. "I thought you didn't want anything to do with me for two months, then I thought you were dead, then crossed the desert and let myself be captured to kill Saleem."

His words are harsh; like there's some obvious logic in that sentence that she is missing, like it's offensive for her to be asking such a question.

No sense at all.

"I do not understand."

"It's quite easy actually. You, prisoner. We, rescuers. Kind of like Chip'N Dale, but less hairy."

He takes another step and smiles a little exactly as she remembered him, the same way she used to see him when the beatings had gone for too long and her mind needed a reprieve from the pain.

Tony looks relieved somehow, under the tension and the bruises, he looks as trouble free and content as he used to before Michael, before the mistrust and the angry words between them and that's more than she can take.

"I would not have called you," she says out of the blue. "If I had not been taken prisoner I would not have called you."

He stops and stares at her for an instant and then resumes walking, not taken aback.

"It doesn't matter," he says as if that were the only logical answer.

He takes another two steps and they are suddenly half a meter apart and she finds it difficult to breath.

"I would not have come back here ever again," she tries again, willing him to understand, to get angry and maybe hit something and yell at her like she deserves, but he just keeps getting closer until they're at two sighs away of each other and she has to dig her nails into her palms not to start shaking.

"It's irrelevant."

She wants to scream in frustration.

"I still have not forgiven you for killing Michael."

It's cruel and mean and above all it's a lie, but she has to make him comprehend that she had to be punished for her crimes and her lack of judgement, that she deserved it. She didn't deserve him coming for her. She has to make him understand that he is a good man -she knows that from the bottom of her heart- but she is not a good woman, and at least that much she has come to understand.

"It's okay," he says, "I don't need you to be my partner again," and of all the scathing things she has imagined him saying, she's surprised that those words are the ones that hurt the most.

He takes a lock of her curly, dry hair between his fingers and puts it behind her ear, caressing her cheek along the way. She can't help shivering for all the wrong reasons.

He withdraws then, with a sad smile and dark happy eyes. She knows she doesn't have the right but she misses his presence already. "I just need you to keep being alive," he says still with a bittersweet smile, and she feels broken inside, more broken than Saleem ever left her.

He disappears through the door of the interrogation room as silent as he came in, and Ziva can't stop wondering how in the world are they ever going to come back from this.


	3. Gibbs

_The plane is noisy and uncomfortable, just as any other military plane Gibbs has ever been in; dark, metallic and empty except for half a dozen parachutes, some medical supplies and the hard bench they are seating_ _on._

_It feels familiar and well-known._

_It feels safe._

_His team is alive and safe, all of them; he takes a breath, his muscles relaxing in what_ _feels like the first time in months_ _._

" _So… Tony, how much longer do you think you are going to be under the influence of that truth serum?" At his side, McGee smiles mischievously preparing his revenge for all the pranks Tony has ever played on him and he has to bite down a chuckle._

" _Not much, I hope" Tony angrily mumbles looking uncomfortable around him_

" _Meaning that_ _, if I ask you anything, anything at all, you will answer the truth."_

" _You can't handle the truth, Probie," says Tony defiantly with a voice tone that has "movie quote" written all over it._

_A Few Good Men, indeed._

_Gibbs tries to find a position comfortable enough and listens to them as he often does, silently, from a corner, hiding his amusement at his youthful games. Ziva dozes with her head comfortably resting over Tony's lap as he absentmindedly brushes her hair with his fingers and he and McGee continue bickering._

_Sometimes life is easy like that with everything in place just like it's supposed to be, but Gibbs has lived through enough to know that it never lasts._

" _What were you really doing that night of July when you said you were going out with that, and I quote, 'you wouldn't believe me even if I could reveal her name' tv actress?" asks McGee with a hint of wickedness in his voice and Gibbs rolls his eyes and almost smiles as he hears Dinozzo struggling for an answer and failing._

" _I was out visiting my aunt, happy?"_

" _You have no idea."_

_The satisfaction in McGee's voice is almost contagious but he is not going to let this game go any further, he knows better than anyone that everybody is entitled to their own secrets._

" _Let me think what I'm going to ask you next," contemplates McGee caressing absent-mindedly his bruised arm._

" _Do you want me to punch you, McWeak?"_

 _Gibbs closes his eyes and cross_ _es his arms over his chest, just to rest a little bit, with no real intention of falling asleep._

" _McGee, stop interrogating Dinozzo."_

" _Thanks, Boss"_

" _Shut up, Dinozzo, nobody really wants to know what's in your mind."_

_He breaths deeply, enjoying the newly acquired calm and the sand free air around him. He lets time flow by, trying not to think of Shannon and Kelly, of Kate and Jenny, of all the other anonymous faces he hasn't been able to bring back home; he tries not to think at all, concentrating instead on the lullaby of the motors. When his lids start to weight too much and he is about to lose all conscious thought in favor of a dream, he opens his eyes and changes his position._

_At his side, McGee has fallen asleep; his snores drowned out by the roaring sound of the plane's motors and his half open mouth_ _threatening to drool. In front of him, Ziva is still asleep while Dinozzo looks intently at her cuts and bruises, alert at any distress sign she might make, still brushing her tangled hair._

_Gibbs sighs. He has been married four times and has been down that same road before; there are things he really shouldn't see and things he's sure he'd rather not know, so he gets up stretching his sore limbs and starts to walk towards the cabin, checking his backpack for the satellite phone he knows is in there. He should have called Vance long time ago to fill him in the details of the mission. He presses the numbers he knows by heart and waits for the answer at the other end of the line._

" _Gibbs?"_

" _Hello Abs. We are all in our way home…"_


	4. Tony & Ziva. 2 Weeks.

The streets of Washington are almost empty, only populated by ubiquitous trembling lights resembling ghosts, lost souls that watch him with ethereal disappointment.

Tony drives along the streets with sharp instincts and caffeine induced attention, alert, as if at any time bombs would drop and all hell would break loose—

"Tony"

As if driving around this city had suddenly become a risky situation that needs him to be at his best, awake, focused—

"Tony"

Nothing else in his mind, nothing else matters. Just the streets, the traffic lights and himself—

"Tony!"

Ziva's sharp voice brings his mind back to reality, that reality with truths forced out of him, suicidal missions and complicated conversations. The reality in which almost two weeks have passed since Somalia and instead of just getting better she has just gone from aggressive to submissive, which he doesn't think it's an improvement at all.

"What"

"You have missed the exit."

He looks around, confused and annoyed for a moment. There's no chance that he has forgotten how to drive to her apartment from any part of the city, not when all the summer he has been coming back to that same place night after night when it was impossible for him to fall asleep and... oh. Oh. And then he remembers, she has a different apartment know, some fancy flat that Stupid Guy form Human Resources had arranged for her because she refused to stay with McGee.

"I will turn around at the next exit."

The silence between them is dense, uncomfortable and fragile, like everything else they seem to share these days and it bothers him to think that he has forgotten how to talk to her without instigating an argument or being condescending, it bothers him even more to think that she has forgotten how to talk to him at all.

"I could have driven myself back home; there was no need for you to—"

"Actually, there was" he answers too quickly, interrumpting her. "First of all, the doctor has said you can't drive just yet, and second there's this thing about you keeping being alive, remember?"

He sounds too harsh but she doesn't fight back and Tony tastes a little of bitter blood when he bites his tongue out of frustration because this, this is not who they are. They've been angry, disappointed, annoyed with each other and all the stages in between but they've never been these two people who don't know how to talk to each other.

He doesn't take the next exit and before he realizes it and can do anything to prevent it they are passing by her old apartment with its recently renewed façade.

Tony still remembers every single detail of that night. He remembers the feeling of the warm humidity of the night on his skin as he parked on the street, he remembers the pumping of his blood on his temples as he raced up the stairs, he remembers the uncomfortable kick in his gut as Michael opened Ziva's door and the adrenaline taking over his body as the fight started. He has remembered everything in important meetings, in extensive reports and every single time he checked his cellular with the vague hope of seeing a text form her. He has thought of every possibility, everything that, if done in a different way, could have changed the outcome of that night and he still is convinced that if he hadn't killed Michael he surely would have killed him.

"I'm sorry. About Michael," he says sincerely even if he is only sorry on her behalf.

Ziva nods absentmindedly but she doesn't reply and Tony can't help tearing his eyes away from the road to check on her.

"Yes. Me too." Her voice is low and calm with longing while she looks out of her window.

He remembers her at the hospital too, her eyes full of tears and anger at him and he guesses that if she would have been given the choice, she would have chosen Michael over him in a heartbeat; maybe still would.

He fixes his attention to the road ahead again but the air of the car is filled with that magic smell of hers, constantly reminding him of her presence, the mix of spices and cinnamon he has missed so much filling his lungs and he can't let the conversation go.

"I really didn't mean to—"

She doesn't let him finish.

She smiles politely "I've already made my peace with you, Tony," she makes a small pause and takes a deep breath then. "Besides there's no point in discussing that night any further," she says effectively ending the conversation.

He keeps driving, grabbing the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. Tony believes her, believes that what she said is true but also believes that if she is still quiet and uncomfortable around him it's because there are other unspoken issues between them.

Like, maybe, an unrequited, unwelcome, and unreciprocated declaration under truth serum.

_Shit._

He doesn't try to make her talk to him anymore, just drives till her new apartment appears and silently looks for a place to park near her door

"You do not have to walk me to the door, Tony," she says when he kills the engine. "The doctor has actually cleared me out to cross a street."

"I know," he answers ignoring her attempt at lightening up the mood and getting out of the car anyway.

The street is as deserted as the rest of the city and under the dim lights of the buildings Ziva's healing bruises seem deep and dark. She fumbles a little with the keychain in her hand till she finds the correct key and when the lock finally gives in she turns around and faces him with a little smile.

"Thank you, Tony. For everything."

He doesn't know if she refers to his services as a chauffeur to her doctor appointments or to something else, but for a moment he is taken aback at how infinitely sad her eyes are when she looks at him, so much that a blast of pain flashes through his stomach and he can't help himself, he raises his hand and takes a lock of her curly hair and puts it behind her ear.

Her face lights up a little and she smiles like she used to, and Tony lets himself believe that somehow everything between them will be okay again.


	5. Ducky

_When the elevator's doors open and the team arrive_ _s, Ducky is irrationally relieved. One thing is to know that they are all okay but to confirm it with your own eyes is a whole different story._

_He breaths deeply and lets them be. He waits till the applauses end, and till Abby is finally able to let Ziva go. He sees Jethro go and Vance retire to his office. He looks at McGee succumbing to exhaustion at his chair and at Tony following from afar every single move of his former partner._

_He waits and h_ _e watches their every move, their sore steps, their faces full of bruises and cuts, their sunburned arms and wonders what atrocities they must have suffered. Tony, McGee, Ziva… his poor children._

_When the crowd subsides and Ziva starts to walk slowly and silently towards him he can't help smiling and framing her face with both hands when she's near enough._

_She looks past exhausted and there's something broken in her eyes that makes his breath catch more than any wound._

" _Welcome home, Ziva," he says, and carefully embraces her trying not to cause her any more pain._

_She shivers slightly and swallows hard, but she lets him hug her for as long as he wants._

_So sad, she looks so utterly, unbearably sad that he can't help wondering how much time and effort is going to take to bring her completely back from the desert. Ducky has seen before what three months of captivity can do to a human body, more times that he cares to admit, but it's the first time that he has to see those consequences on the soul of a loved one._

" _Thank you, Ducky," her voice is fragile and tiny, barely being able to contain a hopeless sigh, as if not believing his words._

_He disentangles gracefully from her embrace and looks her directly in the eyes._

" _Do you know what_ _my old wise grandmother used to say, Ziva?" she denies with her head and Ducky smiles grabbing her gently by the arms. "Home is not were you live, home is where you can always come back."_

_She s_ _wallows hard as a lonely tear runs down her cheek and he has no other option but to hug her again, "Welcome back home, my child."_


	6. Tony & Ziva. 1 Month.

Her first day back at work is a slow day, a Tuesday, and she is not allowed to do much except picking up the phone and answering e-mails, yet she doesn't remember being so happy for a long, long time.

She has started to feel like herself again, maybe not the old Ziva but this new changed version of herself, the desert finally peeling off her skin, the memories of the summer pushed into the background of her mind no longer preventing her from thinking clearly about anything else.

She brings her things in a small cardboard box and takes her time to place them back at her desk with studied care as if it was a sacred ritual. She tries to take all back in, all the details that surround her and this place, unique and real and _hers_ , like the smell of Gibbs' coffee travelling from his desk, the sound of McGee's fingers taping furiously the keyboard, the background noise of the squad room or the feeling of her hands along the surface of her desk.

Tony reads something on his computer screen. Quietly, seriously, without smartass remarks or arrogant smirks, so un-Tony like that she is tempted to cross to his desk and pinch him hard in the arm to confirm he is not a wax figure. There's been a lot of this lately, this Tony that jokes around with McGee, chats loud with other agents at the coffee machine and flirts with Abby with a knowing smile but doesn't really talk to her if it's not needed. This calm Tony, indifferent to her, that she hardly recognises.

She deserves it, that much Ziva knows. She had broken them before the summer when she decided to stay at Tel Aviv without any warning or a goodbye. There was a time, when her wounds healed and her nightmares started to subside, that she had let herself believe that maybe they could find their way back to themselves again but she doesn't think that's possible anymore.

She bends and opens the third drawer of her desk expecting to find empty space to fit her new address book but what she finds instead are some of her old things staring back at her. Technically these things are office material that NCIS provide to all of its workers but the blue stapler has her name written down with black marker preceded by the word "ninja" with Tony's unsteady handwriting, the black thing that makes holes in papers and whose name she is always unable to remember is a little bumped from that time she threw it across the squad room aiming at Tony and the clips are organised in two sets of different colours –blue for open cases, red for the closed ones- just as she like them; these are her things.

Ziva stares mesmerized at the content of the drawer for several moments till she notices Gibbs standing tall in front of her desk, his empty cup of coffee in one hand and a knowing half smile directed at her, looking kind and severe and comforting all at once like he usually does.

"Something wrong, David?"

His voice is steady and caring even using her last name and Ziva looks at him, probably gaping, for a moment before answering. "Yes… No, I mean everything is fine"

"Good. Dinozzo worried you'd be cranky without your old things to throw at him."

She smiles a little and Gibbs parts for a coffee refill without adding any other word.

There's absolutely no chance that Tony hasn't hear the short conversation but he still doesn't say a word nor tears his eyes from his computer screen, so she tells herself it's not a pang of disappointment what she feels and goes back to the task at hand, taking special care not to look at her partner while doing so.

"Hey, Ziva"

She looks up to see McGee coming to her, looking both sides before taking the final step to her desk, a mischievous grin in his face that looks too adorable on him to be disturbing.

"I made something for you," he says almost whispering and turning her computer around a little to write some commands. "A welcome present to cheer you up."

As soon as he finishes speaking he presses the enter key and a low dancing music stars to come out of her computer at the same time her screen goes completely black; all of a sudden, the digital image of a baby with Gibbs' head in diapers is dancing around her screen and before she knows it, she is laughing so hard that she has to grab her stomach to catch her breath.

"Glad you liked it," says McGee smiling without realizing their boss silent approach, "just keep it quiet when Gibbs arrives."

"Too late for that, McGee"

The force of her guffaw sends her head back as McGee tries unsuccessfully to apologise and goes back to his desk looking scared.

It feels good; it feels better than anything she remembers in months. It feels like home.

When she is finally able to regain her composure there are tears in her eyes and her stomach hurts a little from laughing so much; from across the aisle formed by their desks, Tony looks at her with a little smile on his face but as soon as she smiles back at him, he gets serious again and stands up leaving in the men's room direction without uttering a single word.

It feels very similar to a punch in the stomach. Old Ziva would have teased him incessantly about his weird behaviour till she got some answers but she can't quite find the voice to do so yet, so instead she swallows hard and breaths deeply and heads after him, every step faster than the one before till she arrives to the restroom before the door has had the chance to close after him.

Her heartbeat is a little fast as she closes softly the door and leans on it "Do you want me to leave?" she ask before even checking if they are alone.

Tony turns around, surprise and anger and something else she can't quite define colouring his eyes "What?"

"Do you want me to leave?" she repeats slowly, as if the words didn't hurt at all.

It makes sense, the silences, the seriousness, the calm anger… it makes sense. "Do you want me to leave?" she asks a third time.

Tony stares at her for two or three more seconds before chuckling and turning away from her again. "Yes, it would be nice to be followed into the men's room, your know, they are gender differentiated for a reason"

Ziva sighs frustrated and fights to keep her voice steady. She really needs and answer and he decides to start joking around her again, "No, I meant do you want me to leave NCIS?"

He turns around again, almost violently and takes a step or two towards her. "What are you talking about?"

"It is obvious you are not comfortable with me being here."

"That's because you are in the men's room, Ziva! Again." he almost spits the words "And I don't think I'm the only one uncomfortable with that, actually I'm pretty sure McGee lives half terrified of you attacking him with your paper drill while being here, vulnerable and alone"

_Paper drill_

She can smell his cologne from this distance, see a spark of anger in his eyes, his pitch high and loud, ready to refute her replies, ready to start playing this old game of theirs all over again. This, Ziva knows, this is familiar and comforting, like the ground beneath her feet.

"Nonsense, I would never do that," he arches an eyebrow. "Not to McGeee, anyway."

But Tony doesn't answer her right away, instead his eyes become grey once more, the humour complete gone from them like before. "Of course," he says with hurt, "Not to McGee," and the familiar easy going Tony disappears again in front of her eyes.

The room has become suddenly too cold, too large, too dark around the corners and Ziva has to brace herself so she doesn't start trembling. She looks down and the tips of their shoes are so ridiculously close that she wants to scream at the irony.

She also wants to shake him. Hard. She wants to grab him by the shoulders and demand a straight answer but instead she just takes a deep breath and tries to maintain her composure "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothing," his voice low and raw while he lifts his right hand and out of the blue puts a lock of her now straight hair behind her ear, "Nothing at all."

His fingers touch the sensitive skin behind her hears for a moment too long and just like that she can't swallow. She can barely keep her breathing steady with the force of how much she misses him; like he wasn't in front of her at all, like they hadn't seen each other in a very long time but before she can say anything his hand is gone and he has withdraw and is now heading for the door behind her.

"I don't want you to leave," she hears him say before closing the door.

Her first day at work is Tuesday and as her reflection in the mirror of the men's room looks back at her with confused eyes, Ziva asks herself what if that part of her that made her understand the people around her was lost forever in Africa, what if that part of Tony that liked her never came back from the desert, and once more, she has to brace herself to fight the sudden cold.


	7. Abby

_When she is finally able to let Ziv_ _a go and pass the turn to Ducky, Abby feels the space between her arms suddenly too empty for her to bear it. She takes a look around herself; there are still too many people around them, like they were on a stage performing a classic tragicomedy without the comedy part. Gibbs is nowhere to be seen, Tony looks unsettled, observing Ziva from afar like she will disappear if he blinks and McGee is getting up from his chair, his steps heavy and slow towards the elevator with his head down. She makes a mental note to go on check on him sooner rather than later when the elevator doors close before she can reach him, but her arms tingle demanding an immediate solution and she has to take two long steps towards Tony's desk and almost thrown herself into his arms without much of a warning._

" _Hey," he says with a surprised chuckle as Abby seats on his legs and puts her arms around his shoulders._

_She doesn't answer, there's no need, she just lets her head rest against his neck and breathes deep in dust, antiseptic and that undefined Tony smell that's is always kind of comforting. Slowly, carefully, Tony caresses her back as the bullpen settles down around them and she has to fight hard to not start crying again because, seriously, she could end up dehydrated._

_He doesn't say anything either and Abby knows that's never a good sign, this contemplative, calm Tony without his loud, smartass, clever cover, is a hurt one and she would like to be able to just hug it better_

_Around them the crowd noises subside as the people go back to their jobs like that's the end of it and as in response she holds him closer._

" _Abby… is not that I don't appreciate… Abby, I think you're going to puncture something important with your bracelet."_

_Statistics about PTS syndrome and reports of terrorism practices to prisoners dance in her head as she retreats a little to look Tony in the eye while he keeps glancing Ziva over her shoulder and a sudden rush of anger takes over, making her hit him on his shoulder._

" _Abby!" he says exaggerating the pain and finally looking back at her, "Ouch!"_

" _You are forbidden to do something as stupidly dangerous EVER again, do you understand me? NEVER!"_

_She is being completely serious but he smiles a small version of a classic Dinozzo smile and she softens a little bit._

" _OK, then the next time one member of our team gets taken by-"_

" _Nobody is going to be taken by anybody ever again. I'm forbidding it!"_

_He nods and for some time neither of them says anything else and Abby knows that Tony understands. She knows him, he is her friend, he understands._

" _Given that you're on a roll couldn't you forbid Gibbs from head-slapping me?"_

_She gets up, slaps him lightly and smiles a little._

" _I deserved that."_

_She stars to walk to the elevator as Tony gets back to intensely watch his former partner and as her stomach knots once again Abby is eager to arrive to the comforting safety of her lab and quite possibly, McGee"_

_As the elevator doors close in front of her the air changes. It feels strangely cold and alien and she braces herself for what it feels like the longest elevator ride in the world, wishing that Gibbs would magically appear_ _to hug her and hold her and kiss her temple telling her that everything is all right and everyone is going to be okay._

_When she enters her lab McGee is indeed sitting at one of the stools, still covered in dessert sand and dirt, bruises and little cuts littering his arms and looking tired and troubled with his brows furrowed at the empty space of the room._

_She walks to him and carefully puts a hand on his shoulder "McGee, Are you okay?"_

_He doesn't jump like she expects him to, in fact he doesn't react at all and Abby is about to check if he has managed to fall asleep with his eyes open when McGee finally speaks._

" _I'm not sure."_

_His voice is small and insecure and Abby almost can feel something breaking inside her. She steps in between his legs and embraces him with studied care around his more obvious bruises._

" _You'll feel better once you get some sleep and eat some of the famous homemade Abby Scuito soup. Well, it's not actually my recipe, it's my grandma's but since…""_

" _No, it's not…" He stops mid-sentence and shakes his head still not looking at her. "Nothing is going to be the same again."_

" _Of course it is. You are all going to sleep, have some of my miraculous soup, follow all the doctors' orders and everything will be back to normal in no time. You'll see."_

" _No. Ziva is not well. And Tony is not well."_

 _He says it like it's the big conclusion of a very complex line of thought and Abby frowns because, really, McGee is not stupid, but he is talking_ _platitudes_ _as if he were._

_She strokes his shoulder reassuringly, thinking that maybe he is more exhausted than she had realised. "McGee?"_

_He doesn't answer, he shudders and looks away from her and it doesn't take the genius she is to figure out that there is something really troubling him, something that has nothing to do with nasty bruises or lack of sleep. She wants to call Gibbs cause he surely can set right whatever is wrong and upsetting McGee, she wants to go find Bert and hug him hard till his comforting sound makes it all better, she wants to go and invent a time machine and rewind till before the summer when everything was mostly okay; instead, Abby shakes her head lightly and forces a smile and her inner chipper strength to come out, grabs a matching stool and sits on it in front of McGee while the humming of her clever machines wash over the silence._

" _What is it, Timmy?" he looks away once again as if trying to hide from her, and she snorts lightly. "You can tell me now or you can tell me later but we both know you're not going to be able to resist my many special charms."_

_His mouth curls up slightly and she is insanely relieved to see him smile even a little._

" _Okay, but if I tell you, you have to promise not tell anyone_ _." She doesn't have time to voice her indignation before he cuts in again, "-Not even Gibbs."_

_She looks at him with her eyes half-closed, "Are you trying to mess with the almost holy sacred Gibbs/Abby bond? Cause I have to tell you, my friend, higher ranked men have tried." He just stares at her with a worried puppy eyed look that could actually break hearts and she can't help but soften a little. "Come on, you know that there is nothing in the world that I can't tell Gibbs, he is Gibbs!" Timmy stares at her some more and that's as much of emotional blackmail as she can take. She rolls her eyes and finally gives in. "Okay, I promise not to tell anybody and not to tell Gibbs unless he asks me directly about whichever the matter at hand is."_

_McGee hesitates for a moment and then nods convinced and Abby is suddenly not prepared at all for the atrocities she is sure McGee is about to tell._

" _Tony is in love with Ziva."_

_She blinks then swallows then tries to blink her confusion away._

" _Listen, McGee, we've talked about this before and yes, you have to be plain dumb not to see the chemistry between them but-"_

" _He is in love with Ziva and he thought she was dead. Really dead. And I'm not sure his main worry was to come alive from this mission, Abby." He pauses and looks at her in the eye, "We are his friends, we should have known it was that bad. We should have known"_

_Her stomach turns and her heart skips a beat at McGee's words and she is not sure she can keep it all together much longer._

" _And Ziva was prepared to die back there, she… she said she was ready to die-" McGee keeps going and she can't talk, she is on the verge of tears and her breath catches in her throat, "-and there was this truth serum and all those… words I wasn't supposed to hear…" He takes her hand in his, his fingers are warm and a little rough. "How do we go back to normal after all that?_

_She doesn't blink, she tries hard not to let her tears fall from her eyes as she gets up from her stool and hugs McGee again._

" _We will, you'll see," she says as her voice cracks. "Now go and take a shower. You stink."_

_She feels sad, she feels so utterly sad that it's making her sick and as soon as McGee is out of the lab she lets herself lean on the nearest wall and slides down to the floor._

_She feels so bad her insides actually hurt and she has to brace herself as she cries. Those are her friends, her family, she was supposed to take better care of them; she should have found Ziva sooner, and should have helped Tony and should have done a better job comforting McGee and-_

" _Abby?"_

_Before she has time to figure out where the voice comes from, Gibbs is seated by her side, all dusty and sunburned, taking her in his arms with tender familiarity._

" _Everything_ _will be all right, Abby." He says in a low voice only intended for her as she lets him embrace and comfort her. "We all are going to be okay."_

_She clings to his shirt while he rocks her slowly. He smells like desert and military soap and unfinished boats, he smells of coffee and bourbon and simply Gibbs, and as he kisses her temple, she lets herself believe it's true._


	8. Tony & Ziva. 3 Months.

"So"

"So, what?"

He leans on the coffee machine as Ziva retrieves her hot cup and tries to maintain his cool exterior as if he hasn't been two heartbeats away from beating the crap out of Lt. James Parker.

"Case closed," he says and swears to God that once upon a time he knew how to do this chit chatting.

"Yes."

"Quickly." He remembers he even knew how to use verbs and full sentences.

"Yes," she looks at him with an intrigued smile as she stirs her coffee with one of those stick-like, plastic things that coffee machines pass for spoons. "Are you feeling okay, Tony?"

He forces a grin that is a bit too wide "Peachy" he answers and follows her as she starts walking towards the hallway.

It's late and people still working in the building are scarce, so he walks down the corridors a few steps behind her for several minutes without coming across anybody before Ziva stops on her tracks and waits for him to catch up with her.

"You're following me."

"I'm walking in the same direction."

"And what direction would that be?"

He is at loss for a moment, "Yours?"

She smiles indulgent but says nothing else. She just turns around again, her curly hair dancing with the flow and resumes walking.

He wants to literally punch a wall. With both hands. Hard.

It hasn't been entirely easy but he has been able to manage himself quite well for the last months. He has given her all the space she craved; he has acted as his declaration under truth serum hasn't ever existed, he hasn't tried to resume their movie and popcorn sessions, to not bother her with his old flirting routine, hoping that that would help her heal, help her cope and be comfortable in DC again, and maybe like him back again. He had not predicted a Lt. James Parker appearing in the middle of that process, making her all flirty and smiley and... he really wants to punch the wall.

She takes a detour and when she arrives to the corner formed by the stairs to the second floor she stops once more and turns around again.

"Okay Tony, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong"

She looks intently and points at him with her finger. "You haven't really been talking to me since I came back and now all of a sudden you can't stop following me."

"That's—" he swallows and leans on the wall next to him, "I've been talking to you all the time."

"No, you've been talking to others while I was around and telling me work relaed things. You haven't been talking to me. Is this about Lt. Parker?"

He takes a deep breath and resists the urge to undo the first button of his shirt. He is out of practice. She has bought new clothes that look exactly like her old ones, her bruises and cuts are long gone and forgotten and the confussion and sadness in her eyes are nowhere to be seen. She looks fine, if by _fine_ you understand _as stunning as before the summer_ and he is way out of practice at this conversations.

"You shouldn't date a marine," He says matter of factly and she smiles knowingly. "And he is also the main witness of the case and technically would be inappropriate for an agent assigned to said case to be going out with a witness before the trial is finished and the case is really closed and that could take months, even years so..."

Her smile gets broader and when he is sure she is going to slap him her right hand reaches for his left cheek and rests there for a moment.

"You're such a big brother," she says, "but you don't have to worry about me." And as suddenly as it came her hand is gone again leaving his cheek strangely tingly.

She turns again but he grabs her wrist before she can go anywhere. "I don't act like your big brother."

She smiles like she is having fun, her wavy hair falling down the left side of her face but she doesn't pull to free her wrist and he doesn't oblige. "Sure you do."

"First of all, your real big brother was a crazy assasin so, really, NOT like your big brother and second… have you gone completely nuts?" he almost shouts. His voice is raw and maybe a little cruel and Tony knows by heart all the clichés and knows this is not one of them.

She looks confused and he wants to laugh for all the wrong reasons because, seriously, she mistakes his intentions as brotherly love and she is the one confused? "But… you came for me to Somalia."

"Yes!" he is maybe a little too enthusiastic but this is a topic they've never discussed before, the taboo conversation, the pink elephant in the middle of the room. There's not a chance in hell there could be any misunderstandings around Somalia, at least he is sure of that.

"You let yourself be captured by terrorists to get to me."

"I remember, I was there."

"Ari is the only one who would have done such a stupid thing for me."

He can't believe it. "I didn't go to rescue you out of brotherly love." He spits the words tasting the bitterness in his mouth.

"Then, why did you come for me to Somalia?"

He snorts and looks away for a moment before coming back at her. "Why? Seriously, Ziva, sodium pentothal, it doesn't really get much more sincere than that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That I can't live without you?"

"Yes." Her liquid 's' runs trough his back like a shiver and his fingers burn where they meet the skin of her wrist.

"It's a very self explanatory sentence."

"Meaning exactly what, Tony? That you couldn't live without my share of paperwork? That you couldn't live with another dead partner, meaning WHAT, Tony, what?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Said the pot to the kitten."

"Kettle! Said the pot to the kettle! Why on Earth would a pot speak to a kitten?"

"How would I know? Pots don't speak at all!" she takes a pause, his blood is boiling, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. "Look, I just don't understand why you are—"

He doesn't let her finish whatever she is going to say, he tugs her wrist and push her a little with his body so that she is trapped between the wall and himself and he kisses her.

Her lips are as soft and full as he remembered them. She tastes of sweat, coffee and strawberry gloss and when she opens her mouth the slightest bit, Tony is sure he has to end the kiss right then cause otherwise he is not going to be able to let her go at all and they will end up doing very stupid things at the office.

He takes a step back and breathes deeply before looking at her eyes. A lock of her brown hair falling in front of her eyes and he can't help himself, he takes the soft bright curl and puts it back behind her ear caressing all the skin he is able to find along the way.

"Oh," she says. "That's not what I expected."

He puts his hands in his expensive trousers pockets and takes another step back waiting for something to tell him which way to go, like a slap in the face, or another kiss or something equally subtle.

"Yeah, well—"

"Do you—"

They talk at the same time and smile at the interruption, and this, this is so romantic comedy that Tony can't even believe it himself.

"Do you want to come over for a movie and popcorn?" she asks and Tony could swear she blushes if not because he knows for a fact that crazy spies with ninja skills do not blush.

He nods and she smiles back at him and starts walking away so he has to hurry up to keep following her.

"Like old times," he says softly and she looks over her shoulder without stopping.

"Better than old times."

And really, he has no other option but to believe her.


End file.
